


I have loved, let us see if that's all

by Luna_reclipse



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Forced Marriage, Incest, M/M, Manipulation, Possessive Thor, Revenge, corporate takeover, possible prostitution, warning for child abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:18:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_reclipse/pseuds/Luna_reclipse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many years ago Laufrey built an empire only to have it stolen away by Odin. Weak in health from the start, it does not take long for Laufrey to pass away with only a son to his name. Loki grew up without his parents and vows revenge. </p><p>When Tony and Loki meet, Loki sees his chance to act. He bargains himself for Tony's wealth and influence to prepare himself to avenge his family. He plans to tear Odin's family apart and take back what was his mother's.He eventually manages to capture the heart of Thor, Odin's eldest son.</p><p>They marry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Distant Past: And a seed is nurtured

**Author's Note:**

> Title from e.e. cummings
> 
> Also, shamelessly looking for a beta if someone will volunteer.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki escapes and takes a step. The beginnings of a plan. Loki plots and is young. And life is unfair, but there is an Amora who makes life more and less unfair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for child abuse in this chapter

On his sixth birthday she kicks him out. It is likely that she has forgotten it was his birthday, though it might not have stayed her hand.

 

So that is how he finds himself on the doorstep of their rundown apartment, waiting for something. He expected to feel angry, vengeful, unrepentant, but all he feels is hot and sweaty. The summer heat is a thick layer of steam and he doesn’t know where to go.

 

Later he’ll feel sorry for himself, later he’ll think about all of her faults, later he’ll hate his mother for dying—no. He’s always hated his mother for dying. He hates his father more for having left her, for having left him in the care of his aunt, for throwing money at her and thinking she wouldn’t gamble it or drink it away when his aunt had reeked of alcohol for ages, probably even before he was born.

 

Right now he just finds himself waiting, but he knows there’s nothing coming so his feet move. They go.

 

Somewhere.

 

He ends up in front of a toy store. Why is it always a toy store. There is a clump in his chest, must be a blood clot. A sentient blood clot trying to claw its way up into that place just below his chin, still in his throat. He wants to scream, to sob. He feels tears begin to sting his eyes. He knows it by the way his eyes start to burn. There are stupid stereotypical happy families in the store, happily browsing in the air conditioning.

 

And there’s an ungrateful brat on the floor too. He’s screaming his eyes out and everyone looks apologetic, it’s like the brat is showing off. Look at me. This is my world. Everyone loves me. They love me enough to put up with my shit. This is how much I matter because I can lash out and people will let me.

 

Loki wants to run in and stab the kid in the throat.

 

He goes in.

 

The air conditioning hits him and it stops him in his tracks. He almost forgets why he came in, but the kid is still crying. The screaming is intelligible now. Sort of. Something about the toys being mediocre, normal—whatever. Loki picks up a glass chess piece. He frowns, it looks like the queen and it really should be locked up.

 

When he is close though, he recognizes the boy. The one from the commercials. Some important man’s kid.

 

Knowing that just makes him more angry. Ungrateful brat. He stops again, his hand is numb.

 

Oh.

 

His fingers are white around the piece. He was holding on too tightly. It is fascinating how his fingers appear to have no blood in them.

 

The boy has stopped crying and is leaving.

 

Someone comes by to scold him and take the glass piece away. It should’ve been locked up.

 

He tries to linger in the shop, but eventually someone notices he’s been there for a long time on his own. He leaves—runs when they ask him about his parents. He hates the heat, but being sent back is something he hates more, it’ll feel like going back to his aunt with his tail between his legs, properly punished, tamed.

 

He hates the summer, it’s always hot. He should have been born in the winter. Though he suspects, being born in the winter would forever exile him from its comforts, the warmth in the midst of cold. He just hates summer.

 

The rest of the day passes in a haze. He may be hungry.

 

He wanders the streets that night and no concerned citizen stops him, except for one drunkard that tries to put his hands all over Loki, so Loki pushes him into a trashcan and steals his wallet. He’s five, the man could’ve taken him, shouldn’t even have fallen, but he does. Just falls over like a domino. Loki doesn’t wait to see if he’ll get up again.

 

He tries to find somewhere quiet to sleep, but it’s hot. And there are no quiet places. Everything is lit by streetlamps so there are no dark places but the alley. He sleeps fitfully. People are always walking past, he jerks awake every time a shadow passes by.

 

The next day he wanders into an alley for the shade and has what’s left of the wallet taken from him. They leave his face, but a rib might be bruised.

 

As he lies on the ground he can’t help, but think. Well. That escalated quickly. And—he’s too smart for this. Living day to day is not in the plans. There needs to be a goal.

 

Mother had always told him that he was too intelligent to suffer. She always told him that you can always plan, there was always a future to look forward to, and every moment should be spent trying to make that future better than the present.

 

No one could hurt him if he really wanted otherwise. He’s moped, and now he’s done. Well. He’s done for now.

 

There are things he wants. He wants revenge. On his aunt. On his father. He wants to have wealth and power.

 

He will have his aunt sent to jail for child abuse. And somehow he will also have his father sent to jail, penniless.

 

There is proof of abuse on his very form, and he hasn’t been to the doctor since mother died, all he has to do is get home and call the police. Or walk to the station right now.

 

And after. He’ll think about it after. Right now he wants to see his aunt’s face when they drag her away, wants her to know it was because of him.

 

There is a woman who lives two doors down. She is an anomaly in the rundown building, loud and curious, entirely too interested in the business of others, but kind. A responsible adult, the type that cares if children are beat. He goes and knocks on her door, weakly smiles and asks for a cup of sugar makes sure she sees the bruises on his arm when he reaches out, the wince on his face when he moves. He makes sure her eyes follow him when he goes to knock on his door.

 

When his aunt opens the door and sees him, she hits him and he drops the cup of sugar. The hit stings, but he bears it because this is the last time.

 

“Worthless shit. Always back for more.”

 

He figures he has an hour before whomever the neighbor calls comes to the door.

 

His aunt walks to the couch. He leaves the door unlocked and comes in.

 

He goes about the house and quietly packs everything his mother left into a suitcase and everything that matters. He packs all the newspaper clippings he gathered over the years, all the flash drives he’d used. He lingers over most objects and still manages to finish in half an hour.

 

In the living room, there is something like a fireplace, but not because there isn’t anything in it that can burn and there is no chimney. There are however, little shelves on the inside to climb up and the grates locks on the inside as well. Loki drags his bag over and sets it inside. His aunt is still watching TV on the couch.

 

“What did mom say when she died?” Loki asks.

 

His aunt doesn’t respond, but Loki knows a question that always gets a reaction.

 

“Who is my father?” He doesn’t need to ask; he knows. The name is on his birth certificate. At this question his aunt jumps up and screams, “Why? Are you going to crawl to him and beg?” She stalks over and grabs his collar, “Even your mother had more pride than that.”

 

“Though in the end she was still just a toy to the bastard.” Loki whispers, his aunt said it many times. It still hurts to have it pass his lips.

 

She slaps him and he falls. The blow split his lip. Good. More proof for later and now it’s fresh. Then she kneels down beside him. “Do you want to be an Odinson?” She spits out that last word.

 

Loki smears the blood across his face instead of answering and she slaps him again. The inside of his cheek is slightly cut as well.

 

He hears faint sirens in the distance and spits his blood at her, “I’d rather be a toy than live like you. Leech, for almost all your life I would think. Bet you've lived off my mother since you were born.”

 

She reaches out for him again and he backs away quickly.

 

“Lived well off of her when she had a job and you didn’t, lived well off of her when she founded Laufrey Corp., when she fell in love, when she was betrayed and lost everything, leeched off of her until she died.”

 

Loki can hear footsteps outside, lots of footsteps.

 

“Even after she died, you squandered the money father gave us to survive.”

 

“He gave you pennies!” She advances on him.

 

“And I saw none of it.” There is someone at the door now, jiggling the doorknob.

 

Loki lowers his voice and says to her, “Now I’ll bleed you, leech.”

 

Someone walks in as his aunt screams at him and raises her fist.

 

There may have been a shot. Or not. Loki doesn’t know. The next few seconds are a blur, but Loki won’t forget the look on his aunt’s face as she is dragged away. There are so many emotions on her face: anger, panic, surprise, mostly anger, and indignation? Her mouth is open and screaming, her face is red and her brow furrowed.

 

Loki knows she is unrepentant and so very angry. It thrills him. It’s no fun punishing the meek and repentant, he is thankful he can hurt her now while he is still angry, while it still matters, while it can be satisfying. They can’t see his smile because he has to look scared, sad, abused, but he is very much relishing this victory.

 

It turned out he had to testify at court. So he did, he made the perfect show of it, his hesitation in bringing his arm up, the tears in his eyes, the tremble in his frame. He didn’t smile once when looking at her face during the trial or after. Well. Maybe a little bit after. Dearest aunt would be put away for quite a while. And unfortunately, he was to be sent to a foster home.

 

The lady from two doors down had come to the trial. Loki asked her to keep his suitcase for him, until he found a home. He pulled all the charm he had to convince her. She smiled sweetly at him and looked uncomfortable, but agreed. The suitcase was as tall as he was and contained important things, he would never take it to a foster home. If TV and living with his aunt taught him anything, it was that you need to keep your things safe and far away. There would be no telling what sort of people would be in his foster home. Even if the social worker said he would be safe there, it doesn’t mean his things would be, and there were things he couldn’t risk losing.

 

The foster home was way too small for the eleven kids there and almost all of them were scrawny except for three lumbering oafs—Loki couldn’t help but crinkle his nose, three oafs who smelt like fish.

 

On that very first day, they serve chicken, and mash potatoes, and macaroni and cheese for lunch. One of the large oafs tries to steal a piece of chicken from a little blonde girl and she stabs his hand with a fork. Loki smiles, the girl lies so beautifully when one of the foster parents comes over.

 

After lunch they are to watch TV. Loki would rather be reading, so he goes to the bookshelves in the back of the living room. There are the normal classics in the back, _The Great Gatsby, Wuthering Heights, Moby Dick, The Art of War_. He hasn’t finished that last one yet. But when he traces the spine with his finger—

 

“You have to pay to read,” the small blonde from before says.

 

He is only momentarily speechless, “Pardon?”

 

She folds her arms across her chest, “This isn’t the library.”

 

Loki wants to scoff, “This isn’t a bookstore.”

 

The girl smirks, “Oh but it is. These are my books and you must pay to read.”

 

Loki furrows his eyebrows, but chooses to bite, “Why are these,” he waves a hand at the shelf, “your books?”

 

The smirk seems to widen if that is possible, “Because they aren’t yours, and everything in this house that isn’t yours, is mine.”

 

Loki begins to smile as well, “Is this some sort of posturing then? Are you trying to tell me who’s boss? Well then, what will happen if I do not pay and simply take the book?”

 

Her smirks softens as she tilts her head to contemplate, “Then I will cry and tell them you touched me, and you picked up that book to hit me because no one will believe a five year old orphan can read—“

 

“Six actually.”

 

She scowls, “and no one will give you enough time to prove otherwise.”

 

Loki gives her a genuine smile, “Ok.”

 

She opens her mouth, but then shuts it and gives him a confused look, “Ok?”

 

“Yes.” He nods, “Ok. I can’t read while you’re around. I get it. I could try and out lie you, but that would draw unwanted attention to me wouldn’t it? And you’re just as cute as I am, I don’t know if I could beat you at this point in time. I don’t play to lose, so ok.”

 

She smiles too, “No screaming and crying about how this is unfair?”

 

He shrugs, “Life is unfair.”

 

She smirks, “You’re an ass.”

 

He smirks back, “So are you.”

 

“I’m Amora,” she states and sticks out her hand.

 

Loki grasps it, “Loki.”

 

After dinner they are herded to the TV again. Loki tries to read but Amora keeps interrupting.

 

“I can’t stand life here,” she says to him, “I feel like I’m dying a little more every day—”

 

“You are.” He interjects.

 

She rolls her eyes, “I meant inside. I’m dying inside.”

 

He asks just to shut her up, “Was life better before?”

 

She scoffs, “No.” And it seems like the end of that conversation.

 

“But it doesn’t mean there isn’t _more._ ” Amora says wistfully.

 

Loki feels the same way, but it doesn’t mean he knows how to get that elusive _more._

 

“Loki look!” Amora shakes his arm and points toward the TV.

 

The brat from the store is on TV. Anthony Stark. He’s in an interview. “What do you want the most right now Anthony?” The interviewer asks him.

 

“Well, right now I’m searching for the best toy in the world.”

 

Loki wants to laugh at the interviewer’s face; she clearly was expecting something like world peace.

 

“Well, at least he’s honest,” Amora says with a grimace.

 

Loki shakes his head.

 

“But Loki, that’s what I meant when I say more.” She turns to him with wide eyes, “Just think about what _we_ could do in his position. We would make so much more of it.”

 

He wants to point out that she does have power, amongst the people she interacts with now, she has power, but he doesn’t point it out because how could he. When he understands all too well what she means.

 

When it is time for bed, Loki feels very vulnerable. The foster home is a strange new place. During the day, when he had time, he tried to find hiding spots, while he didn’t plan to hide, the areas were best known just in case—especially since he still needed time to assert his place.

 

Loki curls into himself and tries to sleep, but he keeps thinking about his mother. He keeps seeing her deathly pale and still trying to sit up. She’d kept doing that her entire last week. This memory wasn’t one he thought of normally, he normally remembered her as strong, stubborn, refined, not dying.

 

It is late when he drifts off.

 

He jerks awake sometime around midnight when someone gags him, he tries to tear the gag off, but his arms and legs are restrained. The assailants smell like the oafs he saw earlier, which means he probably won’t be taken far, but it might not be safe to be taken anywhere at all.

 

So he thrashes, and manages to hit something soft, but all the merits him is a soft grunt from one of his captors and a blow to the head.

 

There is abruptly nothing.

 

 


	2. The Present: Bound to Love and Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is married

Loki is sitting on their marriage bed, still in the clothes he'd worn to the reception. Many had insisted that since a great Odinson was marrying a _man_ they could forgo the dress, but it would not do to have the public think Thor was anything but the stereotypical version of the dominant party. It was so typical of Odin's family to worry about face when they've already lost it. He can't help the smile that breaks across his face, just by the simple act of saying “I do” at the wedding had already dealt a blow to Odin.

 

Loki was forced into wearing a flowing white tunic for the wedding and a green one for the reception—well, several for the reception, but the green one now. They were very elegant, most definitely attire worthy of any groom, but to have it forced upon him was grating. He had played up the situation for all it was worth when he found out, as a result Thor had personally gone to the family lawyer to amend their prenuptial. It helped that the tunic had flattered Loki greatly. The moment Thor saw him in it, Thor loved it. His eyes burned, and Loki knew Thor had to have his way with this, would not see Loki in anything else for the wedding, probably would've ravaged him on the floor right then if not for the audience they had. And Thor would pay dearly for it.

 

The material was very fine, Loki'd worn it for the entirety of the flight, but it wasn't wrinkled. Thor couldn't wait for them to go on their honeymoon so they got on the plane right after the reception; he didn't have time to change.

 

By they he means: Thor and him and Thor's friends. It was a little strange. Loki had always thought Thor would want him to himself the moment the reception ended, but he had allowed Sif and the others three to tag along. Since the jet was private, it wasn't too difficult for Thor's daft friends to come. After they got off the plane, those friends had dragged Thor off to drink. Loki wanted to think so he retired to the suite instead.

 

Thor's friends had never liked Loki so they didn't mind, and Thor didn't want to neglect them so when Loki suggested Thor go enjoy himself, Thor easily gave in. Loki secretly hoped Thor would come back so drunk he would fall asleep the moment he returns, though Loki had hardly thought it would work— Thor had been so amorous in the weeks leading up to the wedding he should have dragged Loki to bed the moment they stepped off the plane, or even on the plane. Which was why it was so odd the friends had tagged along. There was something strange about it, but simultaneously not strange since Thor had never been one to abandon his friends. But on their honeymoon? Friends don't tag along on honeymoon's.

 

The night sky is clear and the moonlight is strong. Loki had left the curtains open. He can imagine just how beautiful the beach will look tomorrow, and right now the stars must be stunning. He and Tony are both under the same stars tonight, one of them drunk and the other in the bed of his enemy's son. He can't bear to turn around and look outside, but leaving the window open— even though he can't see the stars. Let them see him for what he is.

 

And then forget him.

 

Now that they are here Loki can't remember _why._ He wanted something, needed something desperately, but what was it? What was so important he is sitting here bound for life. What was so important that he left the only home he's known for the past two decades. He thinks about Tony and the way Tony's hand had turned white from clenching so tightly at the armrests when he left. Tony couldn't even look into his eyes when Loki had taken his leave. Would it have been different? Would he have stayed if Tony had reached out, or if Tony had looked him in the eyes. Loki had always had a weakness for Tony's eyes.

 

The carpet is plush and soft. It wouldn't hurt to fall on the floor if— Loki frowns and takes a deep breath. He digs his toes into the carpet and relaxes his shoulders. Sitting here waiting for Thor is making him so very tense. It's just very hard to remember what to do, why he is here.

 

When he thinks about the future all he can see is Tony laughing. Tony being a dick. Tony buying the toy store they met in. Tony bringing all the teddy bears home. Tony subsequently putting a camera in all the teddy bears he'd bought and placing them strategically around the house.

 

He hears the click of the door opening softly and sits up straighter. Soft footsteps pad toward him, Thor can be strangely gentle at moments. Even this reminds Loki of Tony, the day they'd fought and then Tony came in when he thought Loki asleep to whisper in his hair, “I'm sorry,” as if Loki hadn't deliberately provoked him. Loki decides then. He is ending this. He doesn't feel the anger anymore—No, that's wrong. He still feels the anger. He wants to tear Odin to pieces, bankrupt him and drive his family apart then when they lose everything they have to the bank, he'll buy their repossessed house and wander about reveling in the feeling of Odin's family's despair. It's just that there is something he wants more. He wants to be free. If he stops now he can have Tony. They can try without this hanging over their heads. It's not too late for an annulment. Thor's feet clad in his typical black socks are in front of him. It's time.

 

“Thor—” Loki starts.

 

“Loki.” Thor whispers and strides over. Thor caresses Loki's chin and brings his face up. Loki waits to see what Thor will do, if nothing else he will allow Thor to speak first tonight. Thor bends to kiss him and Loki turns away, looks at the ground.

 

“Loki?” Thor asks gently.

 

_I guess I'm speaking first tonight._

 

“Thor. Thank you—” Loki trails off, what should he say? He hasn't had enough time. “Thor,” Loki begins again, “This was a mistake.”

 

“What?” A hint of annoyance in Thor's voice bleeds through the confusion.

 

“I—We shouldn't have married.” The carpet looks a pale blue in the moonlight.

 

Thor grabs Loki's chin again and forces Loki to look at Thor. “What are you talking about?”

 

 _Yes. What am I talking about?_ “I—,” a million explanations pass by Loki, but the only one he can come up with is the one that hurts the most. “I don't love you.” That's not entirely true, he wouldn't let Thor go if this was true. _I don't love you the most._

 

Thor quickly straightens. “Where in the world is this coming from? Is it because I went drinking with Sif and the others? Because I didn't actually drink anything you can smell my breath, I was only gone for an hour. I thought you were ok with this.”

 

Thor's words tumble over each other in a rush to get out, all Loki really can discern is a roaring in his ears, two decades of careful planning out the window. His mother will die unavenged.

 

“Loki,” Thor is saying something at him again. “Loki. Loki!”

 

Loki claws to the surface. “Thor. This was a mistake. I don't love you. I—an annulment. I want an annulment.” Loki shakes his head softly, “We weren't meant for each other.”

 

Thor is shouting now, “I don't understand Loki, we were married not even 24 hours ago!”

 

Loki fights to make the words make sense, he feels like he's drowning, shakes his head again. “I'm sorry Thor. I don't know what else to say.”

 

“Tell me how you walked down that isle knowing you didn't love me, tell me how you could say yes to marrying someone you didn't love!”

 

Loki looks up. Thor looks furious. His face is swelling and red, something that might be a vein is popping out of his forehead, but his chin is still sculpted and his nose is still perfectly shaped. He looks like a work of art, painted red, still beautiful, just odd. Loki can see the outline of Thor abs in his white dress shirt. Beautiful.

 

Why can't he focus?

 

“I—Thor.” Loki braces his head in his hands. “I just can't do this anymore.” Loki brings his head up and catches Thor's eyes. “I know this is not a very good explanation, but I just—I don't love you. I'm sorry. I'll leave.”

 

Loki means to get up, but Thor pushes his shoulder firmly down.

 

“There's someone else isn't there? Tell me who and I'll let you go.”

 

 _Let me go?_ Something feels wrong. “There's no one—”

 

“Liar!” Thor shouts.

 

Loki flinches.

 

“Sif told me before the wedding, but I didn't believe it. How could I have been so stupid?” Thor has turned from him and is pacing the room.

 

Loki is confused, “What?”

 

Thor crosses the room to his suitcase, Loki turns his body to keep Thor in his sight. Thor retrieves something that looks like a stack of photos before throwing them at Loki. They fly at Loki like large flat paper thin daggers and one cuts his cheek. It must draw blood because something trickles down his cheek. Loki brings his hand to his cheek and his fingers come away red. _Oh._ He rubs his fingers together and has the strangest thought, _I thought blood was supposed to be slippery._ He glances down to see what made Thor so upset. The pictures have Loki with another man in bed and they're time stamped—a week ago. _Oh._ Whoever gave these picture to Thor had taken great care not to include the other man's face in the photos, but Loki knows the only one he's been in bed with beside Thor is Tony. Does Thor know?

 

Loki had thought Thor looked tense at the reception, everything makes so much more sense now.

 

“Who is he?” Thor's voice is barely contained rage, Loki can taste it in the air. It reminds him too much of his aunt, though she didn't bothering with the containing part. Loki suppresses a shudder.

 

He needs to get out of here. But Thor is in front of him again with his hands tightly clenched.

 

“You want my money.” Thor spits out, “Fine.”

 

 _What? What is Thor talking about?_ Loki tries to get Thor's face into focus.

 

“I don't care if all you want is my money. I don't care if you've sold yourself to me. But aren't you being too unprofessional?”

 

It feels like a slap in the face. Loki has only sold himself once.

 

“If you've sold yourself to me you should at least give me what I paid for.”

 

Loki smiles, _ah if only you told me sooner._ But he isn't doing this for himself, Loki is leaving for his mother, for Tony, for the child he was, he is giving himself a better future, a different future.

 

“Good bye Thor.” Loki rises. He isn't even standing before Thor roughly pushes him back onto the bed.

 

“If you divorce me now you get nothing.”

 

He doesn't know why he says it, “Not nothing. You changed the prenuptial.”

 

Thor grabs the thing nearest to him and throws it on the ground. It shatters. Even though the floor is plush carpet, it shatters. Loki fights the urge to run to the bathroom and lock himself in. It has been over two decades, he shouldn't be able to feel like this anymore. He hates that he is still weak more than he hates his aunt.

 

“Is that all you were after? Is it really?” Thor grabs Loki by his hair, “Why are you stopping now? What you get from a divorce is nothing compared to what you get from staying with me. Too tired of playing the _whore_?” Thor spits the word into Loki ear. “Just because you quit now doesn't make you any less of a whore.” Thor whispers mockingly.

 

“I got tired of pretending to love someone who disgusts me.”

 

Thor shoves Loki's face down towards the bed and lets go. He walks to the window.

 

“I should have listened to father. I should have listened to my friends.”

 

It sounds garbled to Loki.

 

Loki stands up to go and the world shivers. He takes a step towards the door and everything sways. The world refuses to focus.

 

What is happening? Is he drugged?

 

Loki tries to remember. The drink on the plane. But everyone was drinking. Except for Loki? What did he drink? Did he drink?

 

He takes another step. Everything fades to black.


	3. The Distant Past: Running from and to himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki escapes his kidnappers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for child abuse in this chapter.

When he comes to again, he is tied to some kind of post and there is someone beside him. He’s seen enough movies to know to pretend to still be out while he catalogues his surroundings. The area smells of cigarette smoke and alcohol and the only sound is what may be someone trying to pull their own arm out. Then the sound stops.

 

“I know you’re awake, Loki,” a familiar voice drawls.

 

Loki opens his eyes. “Amora.” Loki can’t help but feel a little bit better.

 

She’s tied to a post in front of him. It looks like they are in some kind of basement, but Loki can’t see the walls yet, a very large basement then. He shifts uncomfortably; the cement floor is slightly damp.

 

“Do you know where we are?” He asks.

 

“No,” Amora tugs at her bonds again. “We can’t be far from the house though, they didn’t have any help.”

 

“Who is they? And why did they take us?” Loki feels a little exasperated that he has to ask these questions. “And I’m assuming you were awake when they took us.”

 

“They _,_ ” Amora emphasizes as she gives a particularly rough tug on the ropes tying the hands to the post, “are some of the kids from the house.” She seems to almost be free, “They took _me_ because—well, they probably have a lot of reasons.” Amora’s thumb seems to be giving her some trouble, “And I was awake when they took me,” Loki hears some kind of pop and a swear, “don’t know when they took you; you were already here when I was tied up.

 

“They probably took me to teach me a lesson.” Amora says, though Loki notes that she neglects to mention the reason for said lesson.

 

“Then why am _I_ here?”

 

Amora manages to work her thumb free and her hand slips out.

 

Loki watches her work on the other hand, it all seems too familiar for Amora. Loki keeps still because he has no intention of hurting himself when he’ll likely be untied soon.

 

“Guilty by association I would assume.”

 

Loki is unimpressed.“One. Seeing as we are the only ones tied up, that would mean that I am your only associate and I’ve only been here a day, which means that you live a very sad and lonely life.”

 

“You are my only equal.” Amora interjects dramatically then pauses. “No wait, that’s not how it goes—“

 

“Two. So this is all your fault.”

 

Amora lets loose a string of curses and then pulls free of her bonds. One of her hands looks to be at a slightly odd angle. Loki suppresses the urge to ask her if she’s alright, it would no doubt just earn him a smart remark. She looks like she is trying to catch her breath.

 

“Alright Loki.” Loki watches as Amora unsteadily stands up. “When I finish untying you, you need to help me snap my wrist back in.”

 

Loki bites his bottom lip to keep himself from telling her that it is unlikely that he can snap her wrist back since dislocated wrists likely involve broken bones, but now is not the time to make anyone panic or be pessimistic.

 

Up closer he can see she has a split lip and bruises on her forehead and cheeks.

 

“I’m guessing this is a very serious thing?” Loki asks while Amora unties him.

 

“Well, this actually never happened to me before.” Amora answers sharply.

 

Loki can see that Amora’s lip is quivering, “Should we fear for our lives?”

 

Amora stops fighting with the rope around Loki hands for a moment and purses her lips then winces. Loki doesn’t ask again.

 

She is fairly quick with his bindings despite only having one functioning hand.

 

When he stands up, a door opens. Three guys walk in. Loki recognizes one of them as the guy Amora stab with her fork at lunch. They are the three kids he’d labeled oafs.

 

Amora pulls him behind her.

 

Amora smirks and her voice is haughty when she asks them, “You idiots finally know what you want then?”

 

“You treat us like we’re nothing,” says the smallest of the three, his arms are beefy and he has a thick neck, Loki can’t help but notice the pendant around his neck—it’s broken nearly in half.

 

The boy's eyes are fierce, not dull like Loki expected they'd be, almost intelligent. Perhaps this is not some stupid action of boys too strong for their age, too big for their bodies, abusing their power. Perhaps they have some kind of legitimate grievance as a motivator. Perhaps they can be reasoned with.

 

While Loki is still pondering this, he hears Amora say, “What do you expect? You’re just toys to me.”

 

Loki wants to groan, _Why? Why did you have to say that Amora?_

 

Though to some extent her words are true, unwelcome, unwise, untimely, but true. Loki had always thought that people were a type of toy, played with by other toys. Made to dance, to sing, to speak, to be good, to be bad. And with appropriate behavior, one was rewarded.

 

Amora was one of those toys who played with others more than she was played with or she just played queen. Amora was just a queen. Probably.

 

But something Loki definitely knew was that people did not take kindly to being told they were toys, even when they knew what they were, but he doubts these oafs knew.

 

Everyone can be manipulated.

 

And yet.

 

There were some people too stupid to be controlled, some people with a flaw so fatal they couldn’t be manipulated into a better person.

 

Possibly.

 

No.

 

He doesn’t really think that, a manipulated person is no real person, but to live, you do what you have to do. Though—

 

The largest oaf punches Amora and she hits her head while falling down. She looks like an abandoned doll. That was unexpected.

 

Loki would very much like to be a little more aloof at the moment, would like even more to not be here right now. But he's not aloof, he's not removed from the situation, he is very much here. In this room where his only friend has just been knocked unconscious. That's probably bad isn't it. Being knocked unconscious means brain damage doesn't it? He was knocked unconscious earlier. Is he fine? Can he remember what year this is? It's—It's— not the time.

 

Amora is unconscious. This means they're probably going to hurt him now. And yes. As expected, they are advancing on him.

 

With no one on his side Loki only has his tongue.

 

“You don’t want to do this.”

 

Loki summons all of his strength to stand his ground and not scramble backward.

 

“I think you’ve killed her. Your lives are over when you’re found guilty, DNA and everything. It’s jail for life guys.”

 

Loki forces himself to breath steadily. _Please believe me. Please believe me. Please believe me._

 

Two of the kids stop, looking confused. _Oh thank gods. They have brains._ Hesitation means their listening.

 

“No. We’re underage, they’ll give us juvie and wipe our record.”

 

_Well shit, too much brains._

 

Loki shakes his head softly, “That’s what they want you to think, but the truth is the information will always be there. Just because your record is sealed doesn’t mean that it isn’t there.”

 

The same one says to him, “Well then, what’s one more to the body count?”

 

Loki is simultaneously frightened and elated; a conversation means they can listen to reason, “You’re missing the point. You don’t have to have a body count if there’s a witness.”

 

And now they all look confused.

 

“I could tell everyone it was an accident. Or, I could even make you heroes. Amora and I were kidnapped. You guys came to the rescue.” They look like they’re listening, considering, “Amora didn’t know who you were so she attacked you. It was an accident.”

 

Loki's mind races, what could he say to stay their hand, what must he do to survive this, to get him and Amora out safely. They need something to believe in.

 

Loki pastes a smile on, “Here’s the best part, you guys did manage to save someone, me.”

 

_Please believe me._


	4. The Present: The lightening knows not what it strikes, enemy or friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor reveals himself. Loki is reaffirmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have read this story when I first posted it, have another look. I took out a chapter to include later and I added a new one.

Loki wakes up in bed with clothes on. _That's good?_ His head is pounding. He keeps his eyes closed and tries to listen for others in the room. It sounds like he is alone. Loki opens his eyes.

 

The blinds are drawn, no one else is in the room with him. He should jump up and out right now. He should be running out that door. Thor could have drugged him last night. He could be capable of murder. He could come back right now and kill Loki out of jealousy or anger or some other rash emotion. Perhaps he had underestimated Thor all this time, for all he knew Thor could kill in the name of his wounded pride.

 

Loki is dressed in pajamas: new, silk. _How thoughtful._ Loki smooths the front of it down. He should be going now. Loki slowly pulls himself out of bed, the air seems to be screaming at him. What did he drink?

 

 _Wallet. I need my wallet and my phone._ A cursory investigation reveals no sign of his wallet, his phone or his luggage. There's nothing of his in the room. _Ok._ He takes a deep breath. _Ok. The most important thing_ _to do_ _right now is get out._ Loki tries to open the door, but somehow it is locked from the outside. _Ok. Window._ He could shout for help from the window.

 

And the windows won't open. Just to see what happens, Loki takes the desk chair and dashes it against the window, it makes a scratch, but its the chair that breaks, not the window. _Where am I? Still at the hotel?_ The view out of the window is of the same waters as yesterday. Hopefully. But it could be that one beach looks just as much like another. Loki grimaces. Some landmark should reveal if he still is where he was last night. There are some red and gold flags attached to buoys further out, they were the hotel's colors. This is probably the same hotel.

 

Loki squints, the sun reflecting off the water hurts his eyes.

 

It doesn't make any sense, why is Thor so intent on not letting him out? This is much too early in the game to reveal his hand. If Thor even has a hand. _The hotel phone!_

 

There is no hotel phone. He doesn't understand it, what does Thor hope to do, keeping him here?

 

Loki sits on the bed and holds his head, it helps dull the pain pounding in his temple and lets him think.

 

It is likely that:

 

Thor loves him, or wants him.

 

Thor is good, or believes he is good.

 

Thor will try his best to play the role he's assigned himself.

 

Which should mean that he'd let Loki go; the good guy doesn't lock up the person he claims to love. Then why is the door locked, the window made of some ungodly material and the phone taken away?

 

If Thor had discovered the reason Loki married him—No. He still wouldn't lock up Loki. He would—tell his father? Have Odin tear Loki apart. That seems more likely. It's would practically be wielding the knife himself. But if he didn't want his father to know—What would Thor do? For hate of Loki he would just ruin Loki, take everything and leave Loki with nothing. In the absence of love and hate he would divorce Loki quietly and then protect his family, perhaps threaten Loki with a public shaming and ruin. For love of Loki— He wouldn't forgive him, but perhaps he would persuade Loki to give up his desire to ruin Odin. None of those reasons would merit locking Loki up though.

 

The pajamas could be a clue as to how he is to be treated. This means that someone undressed him, this person likely wanted him... to be comfortable? Or they wanted his clothes as an extra precaution to prevent him from leaving and felt it was too scandalous to leave him naked, or that he would get the wrong idea?

 

_This line of thinking if going nowhere. Why am I here?_

 

The only reasons Thor would keep Loki locked up are: One, Thor is incredibly pissed and intends to... kill Loki? But then why not do it last night? Two, Thor will lock Loki up forever because...

 

Argh. He can't do this right now, his head is pounding, being a genius is not a very plausible option when it hurts to think. Thor will come back and Loki can figure it out from there. If Thor means to keep him locked up forever, at least the hotel is very nice place. If Thor intends to kill Loki however. He'll need a weapon. The broken chair catches his eye, one of the stakes the chair had splintered into could easily be used to stab someone.

 

Loki rises and takes one of the splinters from the remains of the chair. The edges are sharp; it'll cut his hand if he were to grip it. He needs to make a handle, a towel should do the trick. Loki get one of the hand towels from the bathroom and wraps it around the end of the stake with less jagged pieces sticking out. Now somewhere to hide it and that's easily accessible. _Under the bed should work, near the foot?_ What else could happen? Is there any other inevitability to prepare for? He really wants to figure out what Thor is planning, but this is the most he can do for now. Might as well get a glass of water and try to flush whatever it is out of his system. Then if that fails, sleep it off.

 

Loki is dozing with his head in his hands on the corner of the bed when someone unlocks the door. Loki jolts a little and his heart races, now that someone is coming in he feels frightened. It is possible he cannot control the situation. It is possible he could die. Loki wants to keep still, but thinks better of it. _There's no benefit in not being able to see who is coming in._

 

Loki looks up as Thor enters. _If you keep calm, he'll keep calm._ _And if anything happens there's still the chair_ _leg_ _._

 

“You're awake.” Thor says as he hands Loki a cup of coffee.

 

Loki frowns, what kind of behavior is this? Is this something psychopaths do? Lock people up and pretend nothing happened? He doesn't know whether or not to take the coffee.

 

“It's not poisoned.”

 

Loki hums softly to himself, _just because you tell me so doesn't mean its true._ He takes the cup anyway, but doesn't drink it. _Worse case scenario it's a weapon._

 

“I'm guessing you tried the door?” Thor takes his silence for confirmation. “I'm sorry, but I couldn't risk coming back and seeing you gone. Not before I could talk to you.”

 

It doesn't explain the extreme measures, but Loki lets it go. At least until he figures out what's at stake here.

 

Thor glances at the broken chair and shrugs. He continues to stand in front of Loki. “I should be upset. I should be pounding you into the ground right now Loki.”

 

Loki shrugs and looks at the ground.

 

“Loki.” Thor says in a voice that sounds frustrated.

 

“Loki.” Thor says again.

 

Finally Thor grabs his chin and forces Loki to look at Thor. “I bet,” Thor begins, “that if I asked you what those photos were, if they were real or not, I wouldn't get an answer from you. Not a yes nor no to the simple question of: are you fucking someone behind my back.”

 

Loki fights the urge to wince; Thor's grip is bruising so he pulls away, but Thor just grabs his chin again and force Loki to meet his eyes.

 

“See? You can't can you?”

 

Loki keeps silent because to some extent it is true, but not only that: he's never been kind to Thor. Never said a word more than he wanted to. It used to be an attractive trait in Thor's eyes.

 

Loki was never was one to explain himself. There is no need to begin now.

 

Loki widens his eyes in defiance, glares, and tries to shake free again. Thor doesn't blink, but his face softens and Loki feels disgusted. He can see Thor becoming sentimental.

 

“You always do that when you're angry. When you want to make me the villain. Loki, aren't you afraid I'll become a real villain? Simply because you've told me I am one so many times?”

 

Thor's grip loosens and Loki knows he means to caress his face so he turns away and Thor's grip tightens again, turns Loki's face back toward him.

 

“I know that you want me to tell you what it is that I want.” Thor leans in closer. “But I don't know Loki. I don't know what I want or what to do,” his eyes turn pleading.

 

Thor's eyes are searching now, scanning Loki's for an answer.

 

Loki closes his eyes.

 

He can feel the heat of Thor's face as he leans in closer still.

 

“Loki, I don't want to believe those photos are real, and I don't want to believe you only married me for money, but I cannot stop myself from doubting. Because I do.” Thor's voice is soft, “I do doubt Loki. I want to say you would never do this to me, but the truth is, I don't know what it is you're capable of or what you're thinking.” Thor's voice is beside his ear now, “You are as mysterious to me as the cosmos.”

 

Thor has pressed a kiss to the skin behind Loki's ear, “And as pleasant and poisonous to me as the scent of almonds.” The skin there burns.

 

Thor's so gentle as he says, “I love you. Loki, all I ask from you is that you swear to keep no more secrets from me and to never see that man again. I forgive you if you married me for money. Don't leave me.”

 

Loki can see it now. Thor's end game is Loki himself. There is nothing else. He just wants Loki.

 

Loki is conflicted, is this love? Is this what love is? Loki feels his heart soften. He can see how easy it would be to give in now, to let go and be whatever twisted version of happy he can be. To waver so, is Loki in love with Thor as well? But to give in now, would that not be to truly sell his soul. To be entirely taken over? If he gives over body and soul, what has he left?

 

_Is this what happened moth_ _e_ _r?_ _Did the devil sway you with professions of love as well? Of forgiveness, of love, of redemption? It must have been lonely at the top. Did you give up everything? For the hope of something so common to man? Did you raze yourself for love?_

 

Did Odin want her so much he destroyed her to have her and then when he was bored, cast her aside? _Mother, did you_ _ever_ _love him?_ It couldn't—It wasn't that way. There was no love in the end, if even there ever was. Mother hated Odin, cursed him with her every living breath, for as long as Loki could remember.

 

What had Odin done to her? _Taken from her herself and left her,_ a voice whispers. Was this his fate as well? _Like mother like son._ To live as an Odinson's toy?

 

He doesn't know how much time passes as he contemplates what to do. He wanted to leave Thor for love of him, but is it possible to stay with Thor for love of him? Can they be together in this manner? They can't. They can't. Thor can be forgiven because he doesn't know, but Loki _knows._ They can't stay together.

 

Why does this have to be so hard?

 

Thor must take his silence for dissent because he continues on with: “I'll never let you go.”

 

Loki opens his eyes and stiffens.

 

“I can forgive your indiscretion this once, but if you do this again, I will chase down the man in the photos and tear everything from him.” Thor pulls back and meets Loki's eyes. “Then I will chain you to our bed and throw away the key. If you married me for money, I have fulfilled my end of the deal.”

 

Loki holds Thor's gaze.

 

“And you belong to me now.”

 

Looking into Thor's eyes Loki sees. He could probably narrate exactly what is going on in that dense head. _I want him. He's so beautiful. I must have him._ Or something equally possessive and barbaric. Led about by his dick. Loki keeps his face still. _I was going to let you go._

 

_I was going to let you go._

 

But now he will lay waste to Odin's family. The gods demand this offering, for what other reason would they reveal to Loki the darkness of Thor and place into his hands the very weapon that could tear Odin apart?

 

Loki knows Thor's weakness now. For it can be nothing else, a desire so strong laid bare to your enemy is a weakness.

 

_It would suit you well to remember this yourself Loki._

 

Knowledge is power.

 

Loki knows now: under Thor's beautifully crafted face of kindness and love is just a spoiled child, willing to throw a tantrum to get what he wants—a brat capable of destroying his toys before he gives them to someone else. Loki won't let him forget it. Everything Thor wants from him he'll have to take by force. Loki won't let him hide anymore. Let the monsters see themselves.

 

Let us see ourselves.

 

Loki lets go of forgiveness, of peace, looks to the future. Now that Thor is less innocent though, Loki needs to give him something to use, to feel more in control. Something to use against Loki. Loki needs to find an acceptable weakness. And expose it.

 


End file.
